


Cafecitos

by Terramyths



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Coffee, Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Stakeouts, Vignette, just takes place in coffeeshops, not an actual coffeeshop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terramyths/pseuds/Terramyths
Summary: Alternatively, a series of stories based off of coffee orders.Where there are late nights, there are coffee runs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Regular**

* * *

              It is her first week working at the 99th precinct and Amy has made zero progress getting close to her co-workers. It took her three days for her to learn Detective Diaz’s first name. She already hates Scully and Hitchcock on almost immature level. Boyle is nice, almost too nice, but fortunately competent at his job. Gina is simultaneously mean and mysterious, (more so than Diaz). And Peralta…

             The fourth day in she looked into Peralta’s file and found out he possibly has ADD. She suspected she could learn to deal with it, but it would take a _long_ time.

              (Someone had written ADD into the margins with a question mark, so she assumed it was undiagnosed. Or he was just a sugar addict, she has seen the way he attacks gummies bears.  One of her brothers, Jose, has ADHD, so for Peralta she is leaning towards sugar addict.)

              It’s frustrating, how Peralta can go from goofball to Sherlock Holmes in an instant.

             8 days in, and Captain McKinley tells her to handle a basic B&E case, She recognizes the place; it’s a café not far from Miguel’s apartment. She makes a mental note to tell the story to her brother later, and grabs her notebook and a post-it. “Does anyone want me to pick up coffee before I come back?”

              She gets a no from Rosa, both Hitchcock and Scully take it with cream, Jeffords with milk. Boyle asks for one sugar and Gina rattle off long orders that she barely fits on the Post-it, and then she turns to Jake. “Black, no sugar,” he answers without looking up.

              “What, you’re not going to add a dozen sugar packets to it?” she asks. He laughs, but it sounds off.

              “Nah, not today.”

              The B&E doesn’t take long to solve. (The Barista did it). So she returns, holding the coffee tray up with pride.

              When Jake leaves, she learns from Jeffords that crappy coffee is his way of punishing himself between cases, because that day a perp got away. It doesn’t matter, because within a few hours Jake drags the perp into holding. She learns that Jake’s regular order is coffee with half- &-half and three sugars, the same way his mom used to take it. After subconsciously memorizing it, the next day she leaves the coffee by his desk. Jake just gives her a nod, and manages to be less annoying the rest of the day.

              (She never memorized her boyfriends’ orders, even Teddy’s. Amy justifies memorizing Jake’s because she knew she would work with him for longer than any relationship.)

* * *

**Café Cubano**

* * *

 

              Amy’s with her brother Miguel in a Cuban café when the door _dings_ open. She looks up from the coffee and fried plantains, and starts profusely swearing under her breath in Spanish. Miguel stares at her as if she has grown a third head. Miguel turns around, and his eyes lock on to the man she’s swearing at.

              “Who’s the guy?” he asks in Spanish, and becomes _the_ overprotective brother of a clan of overprotective brothers.

              “My co-worker?”

              “Peralta?” _Oh ----, he’s smiling now, ------------_. While she’s internally freaking out Miguel smirks, and her stomach just _drops._

              “No! Miguel don’t even think-“

              “Hey! You there!” Peralta turns around in confusion, before noticing Amy. He grins cheek-to-cheek.

              “Santiago! Or should I say Santiagos, is this your brother?” he asks, holding his hand out to Miguel. She nods, and the two men shake hands before Peralta slides next to her.

              “What’s the age gap?”

              “10 years. Amy’s the baby of the family,” Miguel said with that stupid grin on his face. “I’ll trade you stories of baby _Amalia_ for any embarrassing stories you have.”

              “Miguel Por Favor, NO,” but Peralta launches into a story involving a grandmother, a prostitute and an iguana, so she is _utterly doomed._ She rests her head on the table, wishing for some excuse to leave.

              Jake has just started the story when a waiter from her father’s generation walks up to the table. _He could easily pass as my uncle,_ she notes in her head. “A coffee for my new friend here,” Miguel orders. Peralta protests, but Miguel dismisses it, saying, “Relax, Coffee is cheap here.”

              A minute later, the waiter returns with a shot glass of coffee. “Une cafecito” the waiter announces. “Okay!?”

              “Um,” Jake says tentatively. “I thought I ordered a regular coffee.” Warning bells goes off in her head, but Miguel winks at her.

              “Look at the man. He’s not an ito, he’s an _ande,”_ Miguel says, and before she can stop them, they send the waiter back.

              It takes longer, but the waiter returns with a bowl of coffee. She thinks there’s at least seven shots in there.

              “OK?”  The waiter asks again. Jake holds up the bowl, making eye contact with the waiter and then tips back the bowl, draining it in one go. The waiter eye’s bugged.

              “Yeah, it’s okay,” Jake answers, his voice cracking a bit. The waiter left- dumbfounded. A second later she hears from the kitchen

              “Anita, call 911!”

               “Man, your partner is _loco,_ ” Miguel shakes his head in realization. Another waiter comes with a check and they scram as soon as possible.

              “I am never going to sleep again,” Jake declares when they go back to the precinct. He fidgets and doesn’t shut up for the next several hours, but it is normal behavior for him so she doesn’t say anything. (He gives up coffee for a month, and Amy doesn’t comment on that either. She is alone in that regard.)

              (When the rest of the family meet Jake, Miguel tells that story while Jake is in the kitchen helping Mom with the food. They immediately declare Jake as Amy’s most badass boyfriend. They are only friends at the time.)

* * *

**Lattes**

* * *

 

              Amy has known Peralta long enough that he isn’t _that guy_ at Starbucks. The award for most complicated drink order in the precinct unsurprisingly goes to Gina. Peralta’s normally stingy enough with coffee not to order anything above three bucks –except whenever he gets his first paycheck of the month. On those days, he will ask Gina to pick up a specialty drink from Starbucks and then try to drink it as discreetly as possible. Like his regular order, the monthly reward  is another habit picked up from his mom.

              Apparently, Charles has a vendetta against Starbucks, which is why Jake tries to stay away from it. “There are plenty of good, local coffee houses here in Brooklyn,” Charles explains, “I want to support them, but Starbucks takes their customers.” He soon ropes her into his quest for the best coffee in Brooklyn (within fifteen minutes of the precinct).  Eventually, they settle on a small place that uses the Anthora cups and makes great lattes. It’s not long before they convert everyone to the coffee shop, even Gina.

* * *

  **Redeye**

* * *

 

              Amy stifled another yawn. _God, the last time I was this tired it was finals week._ She has not slept the last two nights, as she worked a kidnapping case of a little girl with Peralta.

              “Amy, seriously, you’re exhausted,” she also been arguing with Peralta for the last ten minues over this “Go take a nap in the break room.”

              “It’s not fine, I’m the secondary on this case. I’m supposed to be helping you.”

              “ _And_ as your primary, I think I’m right to order you to go take a nap. Just for an hour,” she relents, and passes out the moment she face-plants on the couch.

              When Amy wakes up, the first thing she sees is Rosa nudging her in the stomach with her boot. She pushes herself up with a groan, and trudges over to the kitchen for a redeye

 When she gets back to the whiteboard, she sees Peralta sleeping on three chairs, with a wolf blanket over him from Gina. She can’t help but smile, because _Christ he looks so young._

After staring at him for an unhealthy amount of time, she turns back to the whiteboard and takes a sip of the redeye, ignoring Jake’s soft snores. She scans the board, and in a minute swear in Spanish, because she’s finally found a lead _and why didn’t we see it before_? Excitement take over, but she hesitates waking up Peralta.

She pokes him in the cheek, and all she gets in response is a soft snore. (When she was little, she would shove her brothers out of bed onto the floor on Christmas. When she was _really_ little, she would jump on them. It was their tradition.) But Jake is definitely not Miguel or Jose or Juan or Jorge or Rafael, so she gently shakes him awake. “I found a lead,” and then he shoots up. They freakin’ race to the squad car, tripping over themselves. Traffic’s a mess, but within three hours the little girl is sitting in the ambulance wearing a shock blanket and drinking hot chocolate with her parents while the beat cops drag the criminal away in her handcuffs. Jake takes her home, and she finally gets to sleep in her bed, while Jake just takes her couch.


	2. Cafe con Panna, Mocha with Mint

**Café con Panna**

* * *

 

              Amy started trying coffee when she was about nine. At that time, she was just licking foam off of spoons, trying to figure out why the adults liked it. Still, it also probably stemmed from a desire she had since she was tiny: to be just like daddy.

              So, on early Sunday mornings in Jersey, she would crawl into his lap, and try to help him out with the crossword. By the time she was twelve she figured out her father didn’t need the help, but he wasn’t humoring her. Her father knew she liked copying him, and crosswords allowed him to practice his English vocabulary. Those Sunday mornings were for her to learn new, bigger words to later us in class.

              (In high school, she aced the Vocab section of the SATs).

              In her eagerness, she started asking for coffee too. Once in a while, her mother would laugh, ruffle her hair, and make _secondo_ , using the coffee grounds for a second, weak cup of espresso since her father banned decaf in her house. She would take the whipped cream can her mother bought for Pancakes, and try to make a mountain of whipped cream over the cup before her father could stop her. The whipped cream would go back in the fridge, and Amy would try to finish the coffee before the whipped cream could drip on the table.

              Even as she switched to full strength coffee in high school, those were her Sunday mornings. As she got older, she started racing her father to finish to crossword. Occasionally, they would have to ask each other for help; but for the most part, they finished before the coffee turned cold. Her father would then switch to the crime page, and explain to Amy how the police could have solved the case, while Amy sipped the coffee. Her mother would go to wake up her brothers, and then it would be time for church.

              Amy moved out for college, but her Sunday mornings stayed crosswords and Café con Panna.

* * *

**Mocha with Mint**

* * *

 

              Normally, Amy loves the holiday season. Really. Yes, its annoying, dealing n with the snow, but as an adult she loves seeing all her nieces and nephews at once (at the moment she has five of them, all of the absolutely adorable. She estimates she could end up as an aunt to 12-21 children, as Juan is the only one uninterested in kids.)

              However, just because she loves seeing her brother’s children in Christmas outfits doesn’t mean she loves all aspects of Christmas. Her half-Jewish partner apparently has a fondness for the more obnoxious holiday traditions.

              Amy grew up with a mish-mash of American and Cuban traditions, cluttering a usually ordered household. A real Christmas tree would be put up, with a combination of ornaments from sets, ornaments handmade by the Santiago siblings, gifts, and impulse buys.  Her parents keep the rest of the house  immaculate. Her father attaches lights to the roof, and a wreath on the door, and nothing else. No inflatable Santas, or light-up deer, or singing angels. Just enough decorations to celebrate the holiday spirit.

              So, on the third day of December, she cannot expect this.

              She walks past Peralta, after returning from a coffee break. After finishing her regular order at the café, the cute barista gave her a free Mocha with mint, a flavor he was testing out that day.

              Suddenly, she hears in a high, nasal voice, “Ho, ho, ho, who’s gotta go,[ Ho, ho, ho…](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZjulTqQkN0)”

              Amy shrieks, dropping her coffee in favor of her gun. The (free!) coffee hit the floor, splatting on the floor, while Amy points her gun… at a small snowman on Peralta’s desk. The stupid thing is smiling, holding a plunger.

              Jake falls onto the floor from laughter, while Amy sighs and puts the gun back in her holster. “What the hell Peralta!” She stomps over to him, considering kicking him.

              “Okay okay I swear I didn’t think you would try to shoot the snowman. I just bought it as a decoration; I didn’t want to scare anyone.” He puts his hands up, apologizing.

              A rather stupid thought occurred to her. “Oh please. I bet I can scare plenty of people with that pervert of a snowman,” Peralta’s eyebrows shot up into his hair.

              “Oh yeah?  You’re on. Loser has to get the winner a ridiculous present –but one the winner might appreciate.” They shake hands, starting the first of many bets in their careers, and Amy lifts up the snowman, carrying it to the evidence room.

* * *

 

Three days in, and Rosa finally cracks.

              She takes a bat out of her desk, and swings Jolly in the John off the desk, into the wall, and stomps on it a few times. She leaves, and Peralta picks it up, placing it back on his desk. They nod, calling the bet off with Peralta technically winning.

              Five minutes later, and a beat cop brings in a prostitute into holding. Once they walk past Peralta’s desk, the snowman screams “HO! Ho! hooo…!” before finally dying. Peralta waves his hand in front of it, trying to reactivate the motion sensor before doing two-finger chest compressions. After a minute, he gives up, and drops the snowman in the trash.

              “What a way to go…” he whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cafe on Panna: When I first tried coffee, it was the same way described above. I just licked the spoons, since I liked the taste of the foam. Later, my parents occasionally let me have secondo- weak coffee that is made from using the grounds a second time. I would then use frozen whipped cream and scoop it into the coffee. This was only occasionally after a meal on Sundays.  
> Mocha with mint: My other story is is a crackfic, and this kind of turned into one. That stupid snowman is a real thing I once encountered in hallmark  
> Other notes: if you've left kudos here already, leave a comment. It could be a simple smiley face, you could bang your hand on the keys, and I would still appreciate it. If you leave a coffee order, I will write a chapter on it. Seriously, I will take any form of feedback.


	3. Cold Open #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any standalone chapter in this are labeled Cold Open. They will still be short though. The vignettes are still in order; these would be in random order.

**Unicorn Frappuccino**

* * *

 

“Detectives!”

Jake and Amy strolled in together, holding hands and Starbucks coffee. Amy still prefers her usual café, but today Jake insisted. In her hand, she held a basic latte with some caramel syrup on top while Jake….

“I present to you, the Unicorn Frappuccino!” He gestured at the purple-pink colored drink in his hand. It was still completely full “Now, I am going try it in front of all of you!” He took a sip, smiling. “holycrap its everything I could ever want in a drink. Sugar, and mysterious powders. Amy?”

Rolling her eyes, she took a sip. “Ugh, it’s like if Sour Patch Kids had sex with a mango.”

“Amy how dare you?” Jake gasped, leaning back in his chair.

“Yo, can I try?” Rosa asked, and Jake smirked, pulling out a straw. “Of course.” Rosa took a sip, making a face.

“Its as if someone put candy in a used blender.” Jake pouted. “Come on. Charles?”

The man  shook his head. “Sorry Jakey. I tried it for the food blog. It is truly awful.”

“But you like terrible food!” Charles glared at him for once. “Terry?”

“It looks like if I let my daughters make me a smoothie, and all they had access to was the Halloween candy I threw out and their color changing slime.”

Jake slumped over. “Gina, you like it, right? You love complicated drinks.”

“I tried it, and threw it out after two sips. It does taste unicorn-y, but as if a unicorn peed in it. Sorry sweetie,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.

“Fine. Apparently, I’m the only one in this with good taste. Oh, speaking of good taste, Captain?” Jake pointed a fresh straw towards Captain Holt. He stepped forward, taking a sip.

“Actually, not bad.”

 

 

“YES!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit, I did not actually try the Unicorn Frappuchino. My little sister wanted one, but all the starbucks nearby ran out. So, this was born.


	4. Coffee Order 1: for Wisewillow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, it's been while. After the finale I lost inspiration, (really, Jake had to go away again? really? sorry for the spoiler) and caught seniorits.  
> I knew I wanted to write this with Gina, but it took a couple of tries to get the character down. Only one drabble this time, I'll try to write more this weekend.

 

Amy had the stakeout completely planned. A series of daylight, quick, robberies were taking place in Brooklyn, and Amy quickly noticed a pattern. If they did not break the pattern, their next hit would be right across a Starbucks. 

Thing is, Amy did not want to risk missing the robbery because she was waiting in line at Starbucks. Everyone else was busy… except for Gina. Despite Amy's best attempts at making friends (or, fine, kissing up) were fruitless. Gina barely acknowledged her, even screw up her name various times. (Well, for some reason Gina thought her name was short for Amanda, not Amalia. Her parents went to Portugal on vacation and brought back an obsession with Fado.) 

So, while Amy was sitting down with her laptop in front over her, while secretly watching the building on the other street, Gina was in line… for over twenty minutes now. Amy turned around for the moment to see Gina waiting for the drink. She was one of many waiting, but it still made Amy nervous. Amy forced herself to turn back, and hope Gina did not screw up the order. 

No sign of the thieves yet. On the last hit, the getaway car screeched in front of the building, the robbers rushing in with guns and out with valuables and cash from the register, never spending more than three minutes there. 

She had plenty of evidence already. The key was a small security camera installation company set up cameras at all the stores targeted. When the cameras always shorted out before the robbery, the prime suspects were that company's employees. 

So now, wait. Wait for the thieves, wait for, oh, finally what the heck took you so long? Gina had a massive Frappuccino in one hand and a cardboard tray in the other. All Amy ordered was a latte, and here was Gina with "Venti Salted caramel frappuccino, with java chips, three extra shots, extra whipped cream, and extra syrup," She rattled off with a smirk on her face. 

Amy really should be surprised. But she's seen Gina with the same order on her desk, so she's not going to complain. Gina set down the tray, with Amy’s coffee, scones, and a breakfast sandwich. Well, she did hand Gina a twenty….

“So, how long are we stuck here,” Gina asked in between sips. Amy shrugged.

“It could be a couple of hours. Gina, You don’t have to stay with me, though,”

“Oh, but staying here means I get out of work,” she interrupted. 

“Well…” Amy bit her lip. “Fine, yes. But don’t distract me. And I may need you to take photos.” Gina gave her a thumbs up.

“Can I do a citizens arrest?”

“No.” Was Gina… pouting? 

Changing the subject, Amy replied, “I have a phone charger if you need it.” Gina took out her phone in an instant, switching her attention from Amy to Qwazy Cupcakes. 

They spent the next hour like this, Gina only looking up to get a refill. It isn’t her worst stakeout, this by far beats any spent in Jake’s stinky car.  
Then a van tore down the street, and Amy sprinted across, leaving Gina’s flashing camera in the distance. The one suspect that escapes ran past Gina, allowing the woman to take photos of his face. Because of this, it takes less than three hours to find the man. 

The next day, Amy left a gift card on Gina’s desk. After that, Gina either called her “sweetie” or “kid” or some other nickname, but never screwed up her name again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell your favorite drink and I'll write a fix with it


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to start writing another drabble, when I found these two lost stories. Assume every chapter is sort of in order, so at the moment we're still in Amy's first year as a cop.

**Instant coffee**

* * *

 

There are many reasons why stakeouts suck. You’re locked in a place for hours waiting for someone to do something suspicious, while trying not to let your partner’s bad habits get on your nerves. This is not an assignment she wanted to do with a certain Detective Jacob Peralta, as she is acutely are of every noise he makes. It’s maddening, really.

They’re 5 stories up and across the street from where the perps are supposed to meet up but she still bites her tongue while he munches on chips. The coffee doesn’t help; its disgusting gas station instant coffee, the kind her college roommate used to add to her espressos for finals night. (Her roommate was pre-med and knew better than to do that. But Finals drives everyone to do stupid things.)

Amy hates it, but she has no other option for coffee as she dumps several creamer packets into it and steals a few of Jake’s sugar packets.

It’s not enough. _Nothing will be enough_ she thinks as she makes a face after taking a sip.

The fifth time, she looks up to see him staring, a smile tugging at his lips. It’s late, but they have to be up a few more hours until the relief team arrives.

“Nothing. It’s just watching you drink coffee as if Scully spit in it.”

She considers throwing the paper cup out the window. “it’s complete crap.”

“Language,” he says, wagging a finger at her as if he hasn’t said worse. “Give me a sec,” he bent down to his overnight bag, and fished around it before holding up a green box. “Charles left this tea in my bag last time after I said I liked it.”

After dumping out the coffee she went over to the electric kettle and poured another cup of water in. She let the tea steep for a few minutes, and then took a sip, leaning against the window.

“Not bad,” she admitted. The corner of his lip quirks up again.

They banter for a little while longer, but eventually they just watch, enjoying the peacefulness of the night. Night wanes to morning and the relief team arrives.

Amy gets home a half hour later, crashing almost immediately on her couch... but not before adding the tea to her shopping list.

* * *

  **Café con Panna II**

* * *

 

It’s 11:08 in the morning, and a little girl is staring at the cup of black coffee on Amy’s desk. Amy just interviewed the girl’s mother as a witness to a B&E in a coffeeshop, but the woman left to the restroom to diaper-change her baby, leaving her daughter behind before Amy could say _That’s a bad idea, last time someone let me watch their kid The Incident happened._

The little girl’s eyes were locked onto the cup as iif she was a tiny sniper. “Why do adults like it so much?”  The little girl asks. She about 8, maybe 9, and definitely too young to drink it but probably curious enough to try anyway. Old enough to have a basic concept of things, but young enough to question everything.

“Well, not all adults like it. Some prefer tea. But there’s a chemical in it, called caffeine that makes people feel awake and alert, People feel like they need to drink it to do their jobs. Others just like the taste of it. But we usually don’t drink it plain, we add sugar, milk, half and half or even chocolate. Or maybe the coffee you tried was just terrible coffee.”

“It’s just that… one of the crooks grabbed several coffee bags out of the store.” Okay, so she didn’t need that explanation. 

“What did the coffee bags look like?” the little girl shrugged.

“Yellow, and they said Columbia on it. There was white powder on the bottom, as if someone spilled flour on them.” _Holy Crap._

“Hey Charles, can you come over here?” Boyle nodded before walking over.

He smiled at the girl. “Hi!”

“Charles, when Mrs. Jones gets back we’re going to have to go back to the store as soon as possible. Tell the beat cops to check the coffee bags,” he nodded, and grabbed his jacket.  “Great eye,” Amy said, beaming at the girl. “This could crack the case.” The girl’s eyes widen.

“Cool! But can I have something to eat?”  The girl fidgeted in her chair.

“Sure. Hey Terry, can she have one of your yogurts?” After a thumbs up from the Sergeant they walked over to the kitchen. They were at the fridge before Amy remembered to ask “Do you have an y allergies?” the little girl shook her head. “Ok, uh…” Amy stopped, noticing the can of whipped cream. “You can take any of the yogurts.”

“Strawberry works.” Amy reached over, grabbing the package along with the whipped cream.

“You know, when I was a few years older than you I used to drink coffee with this.” Amy shook the can, pouring some into her cup.

“Really? Can I try?” Amy laughed before giving the girl her cup so she could take a few sips.

“Okay, it isn’t terrible,” She admitted, but pushed the cup back into Amy’s hands. They walked back over to Amy’s desk. Another minute, and the mother rushes out of the bathroom, baby in hand before apologizing for taking so long and leaving.

Amy and Charles sped back to the coffee shop, where forensics has already found several bags worth of cocaine. The robbery was a setup by a drug ring, who used the shop to deal drugs in plain sight.

The article published about it is _Little Girl helps take down Brooklyn Drug Ring._ It does not mention the girl’s name.

Her name is Brianna Jones and fifteen years later she joins the force, working under Sergeant Peralta-Santiago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all that commented and left prompts, I'm working on them at the moment.  
> Also, leave comments! tell me what you liked, what I need to improve, hell I'll take a key smash. I'm still taking your coffee orders, but if you have a coffee/tea/inspired prompt I'll take it. Just note that for Cafecitos I'm not writing any Aus.


	6. Coffee order #2: Caramel Latte for Nicole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to switch perspectives, so this is from Rosa's point of view. Amy's been at the Nine-Nine for one and half years.

**Caramel Latte for Nicole**

* * *

 

It was four in the afternoon and Rosa spun a pocketknife in her hand, and held a caramel latte in the other; bored outta her goddamn mind. She had already finished her paperwork, since today was apparently a slow crime day. Good for the city, not good for detectives. Her eyes hyper-fixated on the only interesting thing in the room, Jake and Amy arguing. _Christ, go get a room._ The argument started over a mistake with the evidence, but had quickly devolved into the usual I am the best detective. A minute later the two stormed out, accidentally switching jackets, not that either of them noticed.

(Rosa made a mental note to buy Amy a leather jacket for her birthday. The slightly oversized jacket made Amy look simultaneously badass and adorable.)

Later, Rosa will blame the idea on boredom. But she turned her chair to Charles and said “Man, those two need to Bone down.” She’s not sure why she’s whispering.

“Yeah, I know. But that’s not going to happen anytime soon, they are too blind to see it.”

“Want to bet on it? Maybe get the whole precinct on it?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Yo NIne-Nine, evidence lockup, NOW.” No one argued with her, fortunately.

“So what’s this bet about?” Gina said, sauntering in. _Not gonna ask how she knows, Gina is Gina._

“So, Rosa and I think Jake and Amy are probably going to date at some point. Do all of you want to start a bet on when?” Terry seemed unsure (as the designated Adult in the room), but almost all the others nodded in agreement… except Hitchcock.

“I thought I had the best chance with Amy.”

“Ha ha… No.”

“Not a chance.”

“Ugh, I need brain bleach.”

“Nu-uh”

“Sorry buddy,” Scully patted him on the shoulder.

“Fine. They have 3 years to get together,” Hitchcock said defeated.

“4. Jakey’s my best friend but he needs to grow up a little.”

“2. Leave them in a closet long enough and they will f---,” Scully said with a straight face while everyone else groaned.Made sense, but it was disgusting to think about.

“5. Terry loves love, but Terry also thinks Amy is going to wait until she knows her job is stable before going into a stable relationship.”

“5 years around Valentine’s day. Make them work undercover that day enough times together, and maybe it will happen,” Gina said without looking up from her phone. Now everyone was looking at Rosa.

“8 years. Jake’s an only child, so when he gets closer to 35 his mom is going to stat really pressuring him. Amy’s the same thing at 30. With her parents breathing down her neck and a life-plan that seems like the right time. I’ll bet a 100 on it.” Rosa said.  _Shit, that's too long an explanation._ To distract them she slapped five twenties on the table. They looked at her surprised, but one by one coughed up the same amount, some in cash, some in checks until it was Terry.

He sighed. “Sharon’s gonna kill me,” but he put down a check.

“Thanks Sarg. You can be the bookie. Keep this at home, just in case anyone gets any ideas.”

* * *

 

When Holt joined, they let him in on the bet and he gave Jake and Amy another five years. The rest had already lost… except Rosa. After the Johnny and Dora case, she went through the security tapes of the precinct and found footage of them in the evidence lockup. With no one else watching, she couldn’t help but smile. She watched the two kiss for a few seconds more, and then called Terry for the money.

(She can definitely get them a nice wedding gift with it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is rather short, but I don't have another other drabbles in my journals at the moment.  
> However, I am considering working on a Twin Peaks!Au of B99. If any of you are interested, tell me and I'll move forward with the idea.

**Author's Note:**

> No promises on updates, but this isn't complete either.  
> Also, feel free to review with suggestions.  
> Cafe Cubano borrows a joke from Gabriel Iglesias  
> 4/3/17: Okay, I figured how to format this. I used a ton of italics that were lost, so feel free to reread this story.


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